Longing for Home by Dr Nihal D Amerasekera

Longing for Home by Dr Nihal D Amerasekera

"Mid pleasures and palaces though we may roam,

 Be it ever so humble, there's no place like home!"

by John Howard Payne (1823)

Deep within each of us is a longing for home. Soon after I arrived in the UK in the early 1970’s, I experienced the gnawing pain of homesickness. After several months, the grief, sadness and distress of homesickness gradually waned and disappeared. I was left with an occasional yearning to return to my roots either physically or mentally.  The latter being just a daydream or a nocturnal dream in my sleep. Longing for home, or homesickness, is a universal and wistful yearning for a familiar place we belong. Homesickness is defined as a feeling of longing for one's home during a period of absence from it. If there is no anxiety or unhappiness it is not a sickness. It is just a longing for home which is a normal phenomenon. Perhaps it is a feeling common to all emigres living in exile. They all have the freedom to return home if they so wish.

I retired from an active professional life many years ago. I now live amidst the hustle and bustle of London. I love life and where I live. I remain ever thankful for the gift of my family. Longing for home is a natural emotion that descends occasionally out of the blue.  The passion and the desire are to recall and remember people and places of the country where one was born. There comes a certain compulsion to reminisce those nostalgic memories of my parents, the extended family and the many images of the country and growing up. After having lived abroad for over half a century, I have learnt to deal with homesickness.

When homesickness pulls on my heartstrings, I take to the luxury of my rocking chair and turn to music that has sustained me through the peaks and troughs of life. There is a vast collection of Sri Lankan music now available on Apple music, Spotify and YouTube. Listening to the likes of Sunil Santha and C.T Fernando transports me closer to home. The composition “Returning Home” by John Barry, played on the clarinet by Emma Johnson, is so very expressive and evocative. The title and tone reflect a certain tenderness and a universal feeling of returning, longing, and revisiting the past.

My mother, with her Kandyan ancestry, lived and schooled in Kandy. My parents were married at St Paul’s Church and I was born in that great city in the hills. Despite its loveliness and the salubrious climate, I never had the good fortune to live there. But over the years, I have enjoyed many visits to Kandy. The mere thought of the scenic lake in the heart of the city and the spiritual atmosphere of the Temple of the Tooth brings peace to my soul.  The serene grandeur of the surrounding mountains that pay homage to this beautiful city provide a tranquil escape from the modern world. There is often a passionate desire and a craving to return to my place of birth.

There are times my mind takes me to our ancestral home in Kegalle. Ashley Hall was built like an English Manor House. This was where our entire clan of Amerasekeras gathered for family occasions. There were many lavish parties at Ashley Hall. The fun and laughter of my extended family still echo in my mind and will continue to linger for many years to come. The elegant rose garden evoked a sense of romance, beauty, and serenity. Even now, whenever I smell roses, it takes me back to those happy times. The generosity, love and affection of my uncle and aunt who lived there will always remain a wonderful memory.

I began schooling in the late 1940’s and stayed with my grandparents in Nugegoda.  This is the house that was most precious to me as a child. It was a quiet dignified house opposite the Anglican Church of SS Mary & John. The landscape was green and its beauty touched us with grace. The mornings were magical as the light glowed on the green leaves and the dew on the grass shone so brightly. With the passage of years the soul of the house died with my grandparents. In the new millennium the house was sold and finally razed to the ground to become a car park. The house of my childhood only exists in a secure corner of my memory but its every room tells a story and every picture and piece of furniture is laden with memories. I do visit the house in my dreams. Although many who lived there are no more, I can still picture them with their traits and mannerisms.

There are times I wish to return to my school where I spent my formative years. I was a boarder. Being there day and night those memories of my life are deeply etched in my memory. The school has had its ups and downs but have survived the rigors of time. The boarding sadly does not exist anymore. Despite the years, friends I made there remain close to me today.  I love to walk its long corridors and visit the classrooms. Although much has changed in the landscape and the buildings, I still see it as it was during my years of the 1950’s.

The faculty of medicine in Colombo was where I learnt my trade and made many friends for life. Its lively common room and canteen and the many lecture theatres were home to me for 5 long years. I recall the stress and strain and the anxiety of examinations, but its agony and torment left me many years ago. The wards and the long corridors of the General Hospital Colombo were so much a part of my life that I still think and remember those happy years.

It is the people that make a country. They bring cultural richness, create traditions, and establish the nation's identity. Working at the General Hospital in Kurunegala I came across the people of the Wanni. Despite their poverty and harsh lives their humility, kindness and generosity have been a beacon to me. I still remember the tears, smiles and all the human emotions in between, of those who were my patients. I do hope the passage of years and the efforts of successive governments have made their lives better and easier.

Food is one of the most powerful triggers for memory making it a primary way people remember home and significant life moments. Sri Lankan cuisine is well known the world over, but my memory is of the wonderful food cooked at home by my mother. The cooked young Jak fruit called “polos ambula” is the one that comes easily to mind. When I am in a Sri Lankan restaurant in London the smell and taste of food transports me across the vast oceans and swathes of land to where I was born and to my beloved mother.

It was in 1960 that the French chanteuse, Edith Piaf sang “Non, je ne regrette rien” (No regrets). She did so with so much passion and feeling. But regrets, sadly, are just a part of life. The few regrets I have do surface from time to time, but the years have mellowed them to be just another memory. I am happy I have made a good life for myself in the country of my choice. The country where I was born and its many images of its people and places will continue to remain an important part of me.

MISSION [IM]POSSIBLE?- Srianee Dias

 MISSION [IM]POSSIBLE?

Srianee Dias

Now that I have more or less completed my move back to Sri Lanka, Mahen and Nihal thought it would be beneficial to the readers of the blog if I shared some of the nitty-gritty details of how I accomplished this somewhat intimidating task. 

The Decision: The most difficult part is making the decision, and I shared in a previous blog post that it took me many years to make up my mind.  It is not an easy decision, and “one size does not fit all!” I’ve been hearing from people who have already moved back, as well others who are seriously considering it.  An underlying theme is that growing old in countries other than Sri Lanka requires paying for expensive care at home, or ending up in a nursing home and getting isolated from family.  This could happen even if one’s children lived nearby.

In my case my daughters had moved far away and my close friends were often dealing with their own health problems.  It was relatively easy for me to make a decision to move back to Sri Lanka where most of my family live. 

Action Plan:  Once the decision is made, one has to plan the action strategy. Willing family members, capable close friends or professionals need to be recruited.  The work involved cannot be tackled alone by octogenarians.

I was lucky that my older daughter, her husband, and a close friend were able to help.  My friend had previous experience helping people “downsize.” 

Choosing a shipping company:  It is important to find a reliable shipping company.  The choice will depend on what you need to ship. Some companies will pack and ship the entire contents of your home.

In my situation I already had a furnished apartment in Colombo and only needed to ship small items and a few pieces of furniture. The small stuff needed to be packed by us.  The company I chose was Srilak Shipping, a Sri Lankan owned company.  They are based in Staten Island, NY. [+1(718)285-0324]. They advised us to use only heavy-duty moving boxes from U-Haul.  We had about 3 shipments of boxes of many sizes.  Each time they came to my home to pick up boxes they charged a flat rate of only $60.00.  I chose their door-to-door service to avoid the hassle of picking up my stuff at their warehouse and having to deal with customs officers.  The door-to-door service is charged based on the number of boxes.  Since I was still in Connecticut when some of the boxes were due to arrive in Colombo, I had to give my brother’s contact information as the consignee.  Their service was exceptional.  I had already arrived in Colombo, however, when the last shipment was delivered and I was able to observe and appreciate their service at the receiving end as well.  They partner with FedEx and it is possible that they are able to service areas outside the greater New York region too. 

Choosing your treasures and packing the boxes:  This is a very challenging task and also a very personal one. 

I decided that I needed my books and my music.  My grandson took over a number of the vinyl records that were in my home. The remaining ones along with all the CDs I had accumulated were shipped.  In order to save space we got rid of the plastic jewel cases that contained the CDs.  The CDs are now in plastic sleeves in something that looks like a gigantic photo album!  (Thanks to my daughter and Amazon!) Sadly, we were unable to recycle those plastic cases, in spite of making many inquiries.  The paintings and photographs on the walls were also shipped, except for the few that I gave away.  Thankfully my apartment in Colombo has high ceilings so there is plenty of wall space to accommodate them.  My daughter also encouraged me to pack some of the trinkets and knickknacks that I had collected over the years. Many were associated with fond memories of people, adventures and travel, although they had very little monetary value. She said “It would feel more like home,” and she was right.

We also managed to pare down the collection of old family photos, some taken by my father in the late 1930s.  We took them out of the bulky albums and found acid free sleeves in which to store them.

My family convinced me to ship my ancient (30-year-old) Klipsch speakers. I’m glad I did, because my “machangs” who helped me find the other stereo components in Sri Lanka said that it would be difficult to get anything of that quality in Colombo.  Interestingly, those were the only items for which I had to pay customs duty. We are still fine tuning the stereo system but it will eventually be completed.

When packing the boxes we numbered the boxes and kept a list of the contents.  We had to list the contents for the shipping company, but more importantly it was very helpful when I began the process of unpacking the boxes. 

Disposal of the excess furniture and other belongings: This is also a very challenging task and requires careful thought.  It is very likely that your children will not want your furniture for a variety of reasons.  They have enough stuff already or live too far away.  Even if you paid a lot of money at the time you purchased your furniture, it is very unlikely that you will be able to sell them at a decent price.  After making inquiries I found that consignment stores and auction houses tend to rip you off.  Most of them require you to pay for them to haul the furniture away, and promise you a percentage of the sales.  But how does one keep track of their sale prices?

My son in law volunteered to post some of the items on FaceBook Marketplace.  The items didn’t sell for much but at least they were taken by people who needed and appreciated them.  Some of the furniture was taken by a friend whose daughter was planning to move into her own apartment.  The remaining items were picked up by local charities.  When I left my cottage and departed for Colombo it was not quite empty.  My friend and my daughter took over the responsibility of emptying it out.  Nothing ended up in a dumpster! 

Finances:

Decisions about handling one’s finances need to be made before moving to Sri Lanka.  Should you transfer most of your cash to Sri Lanka? Probably not a good idea.

I chose to give my older daughter Power of Attorney over all my accounts.  I maintain a joint bank account with her and transfer funds into my Sri Lankan HNB account as needed.  It is an easy process on the App and there is no fee when I transfer dollars to local currency.  It also makes filing taxes in the USA simpler. 

Adjusting to Sri Lanka all over again:

This is a gradual process and it is moving forward slowly. There were many decisions I had to make.

Transportation: Do I buy a car or not?  I had been using Kangaroo Cabs in the past whenever I visited and found out recently that they had something called a ‘Corporate Account.’  I don’t have to carry cash or even a credit card.  All I do when I make the booking is to inform them that it is a corporate account.  Every two weeks an invoice is emailed to me and I make a bank transfer.  I get a 7.5% discount when the cost is above the basic fare.  So far, the drivers have been very courteous and punctual and it definitely beats driving in the crazy Colombo traffic.

Medical Care:  A few years ago I researched the availability of private medical insurance.  Most medical insurance plans do not enroll people over a certain age.  I found that Cigna Global did not have an age cutoff, but could reject someone if they had a pre-existing condition.  I purchased a Cigna Global policy, but it only covers inpatient care.  US Medicare will not cover me in Sri Lanka.

I have been searching for a primary care physician, but I am not crazy about the channeling process in the private sector.  One has to navigate the confusing winding hallways and the multiple floors of the private hospitals, and the process is awkward and cumbersome.  Through neighbors and friends, I found The Vida Clinic, in Havelock Town where I managed to get an appointment and meet a really good doctor.  The clinic also sends doctors on house calls and provides ambulance services.  I need to get more information about the way their system works, but at the moment, this suits me well.

In Sri Lanka, one does not need a doctor to order routine blood work.  I walked up to the Laboratory counter at Asiri Central and got my routine blood work done before I saw the doctor!

I am still awaiting a routine visit to an eye doctor and dentist! (I’ve made the appointments.) 

Sri Lankan Time:

I am still getting adjusted to the fact that some people who promise to show up to work at my apartment (plumbers, electricians etc.) don’t seem to respect my time.  They don’t show up as promised, and don’t bother to call to inform me if a problem arises. I will have to give them pep talks as time goes on! 

As far as other adjustments are concerned, there aren’t too many. I am enjoying the company of the old friends that I meet from time to time.  I’ve also taken advantage of the fact that I live close to the SLMA headquarters, and have so far managed to attend two of their excellent presentations.

A Day at the Royal-Thomian (2025) by Kumar Gunawardane

A Day at the Royal-Thomian (2025)

by Kumar Gunawardane

Published on 2026/03/8. Sunday Island online. (https://island.lk/a-day-at-the-royal-thomian-2025/).

UPDATE ON 12th March 2026: The 147th Royal–Thomian and 175 years of the School by the Sea. Excellent article by Krishantha Prasad Cooray. The link was sent to me by Kumar. Please click on this link to access the article.  https://www.ft.lk/sports/The-147th-RoyalThomian-and-175-years-of-the-School-by-the-Sea/23-789431#

I attended the ‘BIG MATCH’ on March 7, 2025 after an absence of seven years. Sadly I couldn’t go the next day to witness a splendid Thomian victory, last achieved in 2016. I was inconsolable; but my mates comforted me. “Machan (mate), with cricket it’s always come or go Chicago;” that was schoolboy slang for the glorious uncertainties of cricket. “Just have a shot and drown your sorrows,” they said. But memories kept on flooding.

I last saw a Thomian win in 1953 under the captaincy of P.I (Ian)Peiris, a lanky light-skinned youth, a demi-god to us kids. Neville Cardus famously said “we remember not the scores and results in after years, it is the men who remain in our minds, in our imagination.”

Strangely, I remember not only the men but also the scores. We were only 13 runs for four wickets when PIP along with GL( Konnapu) Wijesinghe resurrected our innings with a 187 run partnership. PIP scored 123, GLW’s contribution being 63; a final total of 290. We went on to win the match by an innings.

This revived the myth that Thomians aren’t dead till they are buried. Perhaps on the strength of this single innings PIP went on to play for Ceylon against the visiting Australians. Brian Claessen, a Wesleyite teenage all-rounder also played in the same match.

PIP later won a Cambridge blue in cricket and the same year another Thomian captain, Dan Piachaud, got an Oxford blue. Our Warden R.S. de Saram proudly announced the fact at the regular Wednesday general assembly; his nasal twang exaggerated that day due to his justifiable pride. PIP’s contemporaries at Cambridge included Ted Dexter and Gamini Goonesena. In an unofficial Test against a star-studded West Indies team, PIP partnered with Neil Chanmugam in a last-wicket century stand; his share was 46, but he rated this as one of his best performances.

Many years later, I met him at a Ceylon Wildlife Society meeting. He was very affable and related many Thomian anecdotes. But there was an underlying sadness in his demeanour; he had just lost control of Richard Peiris & Co founded by his father and uncle. Both of them were regular spectators seated on the hard wooden benches at the old pavilion in the Big Club grounds at Mount Lavinia.

This ramshackle building was graced even by Mr D.S. Senanayake, Ceylon’s first prime minister. It was here too that my good friend Vernon stroked DS’s bald patch which went unnoticed. DS being the benign man he was, wouldn’t have taken offence. His son Dudley similarly obliged my friend who asked him for a light for his cigarette.

My first Royal – Thomian was in 1950 at the Oval in Wanathamulla. It felt like being in a strange country, a dry and dusty land. But the playing fields and the wicket were a lush green and the covered stands unique in that era were a welcome refuge from the harsh unrelenting sun. The vendors’ stands selling ice cold Portello and popsicles to accompany mother’s homemade sandwiches drew us repeatedly like magnets.

STC was captained by Roger Inman in the absence of the widely adored and respected Chandra Schaffter; he had a minor ankle injury and had been declared unfit by the coach in spite of CS’s vehement protests. The match ended in a draw.

The next year, 1951, was the centenary of the founding of our school. Even the most perfidious among us prayed devoutly for a Thomian victory. But it ended in disaster.

We were captained once again by Roger Inman and Royal by T Vairavanathan. Royalists batted first and were all out for 146. The skies opened then and play was abandoned.

Next day on a proverbial sticky wicket Thomians bravely declared at 61 for 7; Royalists replied with 105 for 8. The Thomians fought back with their famed grit but lost by five runs. Heads down and faces crumpled, we crawled back to our buses, pictures of misery.

An indelible memory from the Royal Thomians of that era is the melodious song (El Negro Zumbon) from the movie Anna, sung so seductively by Silvana Mangano. This was blared repeatedly over the loud speakers, captivating both young and the old. Years later, I played this back to a pretty Ukrainian nurse who worked with me, also named Anna. When I murmured I dedicate this to you she blushed modestly but radiantly.

The 1954 match was made memorable by two unique individuals. One was my uncle Amitha Abeysekare, journalist, cartoonist , humorist and quintessential jester. His moniker at school was Pissu Abey and he lived up to it in full measure. He made a grand entrance to the Thomian tent with his cohort, puffing a Groucho Marx type cigar and waving a bottle which would have contained the nation’s favourite poison – arrack.

He was also a master of the obscene baila. Even after a biblical lifespan, their hilarity and vulgarity continues to stagger me. Everyone moved aside for the Grandmaster.

A cameraman from the Government Film Unit filmed him in all his glory and it was flashed in their weekly newscast. Unfortunately this was seen by the Warden who gave him six of the best.

Two decades later they met in the Bandarawela bazaar while shopping for vegetables.  Abeysekere went up to him sheepishly and said "Sir, sir, do you remember me?”. “Remember you Abeysekare?” retorted the Cannon, “I have been trying to forget you for the past 20 years.”

The other was my dear friend PN. He and I and another bosom pal shared the last bench in the Upper Four C form ( the seventh standard). His nickname was ‘Veddah’ which he and all brothers inherited from their eldest sibling. It was a term used deprecatingly for forest dwellers and hunters. But PN was in reality a sophisticated and charming friend. On the day of the match, he invited me home for a sumptuous lunch, after which we joined the Old Crocks rally. These were supposed to be vintage cars, but in reality the engines in their last legs were not even roadworthy. I’m not sure what miracle got us to the Oval but we did arrive whole and unscathed.

The era of girls school invasion had not dawned. In any case our old croc may not have lasted the extra mile. My good friend of later years, the elegant and charming Ladies College alumnus Rohini, said that they actually looked forward to the invading hordes and would bring their own rattles to add to the din. At the Oval however they sat demurely, pictures of virtue and innocence but glamorous nevertheless. Our sister College Bishops alumni were in a separate enclosure, no less glamorous.

Once inside PN got onto his ‘black magic’. When the Royalists were batting he would light his magic lamp and mutter incantations. Unbelievably Royalist wickets fell at regular intervals and his back was thumped vigorously. He stopped soon; perhaps he had enough of the back slapping, or in his wisdom wanted to quit while ahead. Regardless, he had achieved cult hero status.

For the 1957 match our legendary teacher LGB Fernando taught us Latin bailas to prove that his class was a cut above the others. However as soon as he was out of range our lot started on the ballad of the randy Burgher boy who seduced the doctor’s daughter, was neutered and made dysfunctional. Intellectual prowess was no match for ribald humour.

1957 too was notable for the first of our classmates playing in the senior team; the late Lareef Idroos played the first of his four Big Matches. How proud were we of him; the diminutive lad who mesmerized the best batsmen with his leg spinners and googlies.

BACK TO 2025

My brother-in-law, Anuruddha, and I arrived in style in his magnificent Mercedes at the pavilion gate No. 2 of the SSC grounds. We were the Warden’s invitees courtesy of another brother-in-law, Nalin Welgama. Having decided to take the small elevator instead of the stairs, what happened next was serendipitous in the fullest sense of the word. Another gentleman who was already in smiled at me.

I introduced myself as Kumar G, old Thomian. “Oh my God , I’m Nihal Seneviratne whom you spoke to last week.” He turned to Anu and said “my father, Dr Robert Seneviratne, delivered Kumar at the Elpitiya hospital.”

Nihal was the very distinguished retired Secretary General of Parliament. We were related but strangers. I had called him after reading an article he had written in the Island newspaper about his father with an attached photograph. At last I had seen the doctor who had brought me into this world though just in a picture. We parted shortly afterwards, he to the Royalist enclave and we to the Thomian wing.

We got good seats with uninterrupted panoramic views of the play. A pleasant young girl was just a couple of seats away. Perhaps an expatriate Burgher or a richly tanned Caucasian. I asked her whether she liked cricket; yes she nodded. “Do you know George Bernard Shaw said that cricket was a game played by 11 and watched by 11,000 bigger fools?” ‘Wasn’t he Irish?’ she asked. Obviously a sophisticated colleen.

Our luck continued. A schoolmate and cricketing colleague, Ashley de Vos, joined us. He was of course the distinguished architect and archaeologist. We were classmates, played in the under 16 cricket team together and lived not far apart in Hill Street, Dehiwala. With our animated conversation cricket had to take second place. There was so much else to talk about.

His knowledge of ancient Sinhala history was encyclopedic and his admiration for the achievements of the Kings and also the ordinary people was unbounded. I reminded him of our trip to Anuradhapura; he was a consultant then to the Cultural Triangle project which was restoring the glory of our ancient capital cities. His interest in ancient history was stimulated by our venerable Sinhala teacher Arisen Ahubudu.

Ashley laughed heartily when I reminded him of his partiality to Kimbula Bunis. Of course the chat had to allude to our juvenile adventures at the school by the sea. Our conversation did touch on the trivia of our youth. He recalled our infrequent visits to the Aleric’s ice cream outlet near our school ogling the young receptionist. Anu piped in saying Aleric Wimalaratne the founder of Alerics was his father and the young girl was his aunt!

Most of us could afford either ice cream or jelly, not both. But some of our friends from affluent backgrounds did have both although they never flaunted their riches.

The cricket whenever we watched was of a high standard. The batting was classical and the pacemen fast and accurate. The only misgiving was their long run-ups. My mind’s eye went back to Frank ( Typhoon) Tyson the English speed merchant of the 1950s, who according to Richie Benaud was the fastest bowler he had ever seen. He started off with a very long run up but little success. With a shortened approach on the advice of his captain Len Hutton he ran through the Australian team again and again.

There were many little reminders of those glory days. Prefects trying to palm off match souvenirs, only the bravest confronting teenage girls; no such compunction with us grey-haired geriatrics: little boys selling flags and the ubiquitous vendors attempting to get rid of impractical headgear. Tireless boys running out to the park at the fall of each wicket and regular parades along the boundary line with ludicrously large banners. All these may have been ridiculous but in some ways at least, to some of us sublime too.

The lunch break came too soon. Ashley adjourned to the Mustangs tent; we went to the SSC restaurant downstairs. It was better than expected, spacious with the tables set wide apart. The service was prompt , the food delicious but pricey. We ordered three Lion lagers and fish and chips. The fish was ‘ Modha’ (Barramundi in Australia), accompanied by a white sauce and a small helping of salad. The chips were firm and dry and ample.

Anu went to bring ice creams and I noticed a young employee nearby with a brush and pan to sweep the rubbish – a pleasant girl with a timid smile in a clean uniform which accentuated her slender figure. She looked more elegant than many of the overdressed over-sized girls who paraded past us. I felt guilty having squandered on one meal a sum which could have been her weekly pay.

Involuntarily, I asked whether she had had lunch. “Yes.” “What did you have?” Rice and curry”. Feeling penitent, my hand went to the wallet for a tip. But wiser counsel prevailed as my gesture may have been misinterpreted by the management and onlookers. It would have been acceptable had my wife been there. The ice cream somehow did not taste as delicious as it should have.

On returning to our seats, we talked less and watched more. But soon fatigue and sleep overtook us and we left shortly after the tea interval. Altogether it was a delightful day reliving the heady days of our youth.

 by Kumar Gunawardane

STC Circa 1949-1961

A Book Review: ‘From Nose to Tale’ by Gihan A. Fernando. Srianee Dias

A Book Review:  ‘From Nose to Tale’ by Gihan A. Fernando

By Srianee Dias

Note from Speedy: I am happy to continue the theme of Batchmates' family achievements (extending to family from just spouses!), and post this most interesting article by Srianee about her brother's achievement. Well done Gihan!

Full disclosure, the author is my youngest brother, a retired international airlline captain whose career included piloting many different types of aircraft in four different international ailines.It is a fascinating book and each story stands alone.  The stories also cover a variety of situations that airline captains face.  Gihan was the captain on a flight to San Francisco when the crew received the news of the attack on The World Trade Center.  They did not have sufficient fuel to return to Seoul, South Korea, where they had departed from four hours before. You will have to read ‘The Day the World Changed’ to find out how the story ended for their flight.  There is also an amusing story where the author as the captain, had to convey the acceptance of a marriage proposal to one of his passengers on board his flight!

     When we climb aboard a commercial flight, a mere metal tube that speeds through the air at high altitudes , we don’t spare much thought for the person at the controls.

    This entertaining book, which is a collection of stories and anecdotes about aviation, written in the captivating style of a skillful storyteller, will give the reader some insight into the training and the life of a commercial pilot.  The stories of the author’s early years as a trainee at the Ratmalana Flying Training School are especially interesting.  He writes about the trials and tribulations that he and his fellow trainees had to endure.  

   The book is filled with color photos of many small aircraft, which reflects the author’s fondness for them.  It is when one is sitting in one of those two seaters that one experiences the real sensation of flying.

   Readers who have any association with the airline industry will find this book especially interesting. Other readers will find the stories entertaining and enlightening.

  Many of these stories were previously published over several years in ‘The Island’ newspaper in Sri Lanka, some under the pseudonym ‘Guwan Seeya!’  Friends and family persuaded Gihan to publish the collection as a book.

    One article that is not included in the book (editorial decision) was published in The Island entitled ‘Airline Pilots, Doctors, and Lawyers.’ It is not really a story, but will interest the readers of this blog. It compares the regulations that govern the practice of these professions.  Airline pilots must undergo semi-annual medical check-ups.  Three times a year they are tested by regulators in a simulated environment to ensure that they have the knowledge and skills to handle all types of emergencies.  Once a year they have to demonstrate their capabilities at handling the safety equipment, which requires that pilots be good team players.

    Doctors in the US have to document a designated number of Continuing Medical Education hours (CMEs) when applying to renew their licenses to practice medicine in their respective states. The requirements vary from state to state. Hospitals in the US also have similar requirements for their Medical Staff.  I am unaware of equivalent requirements in Sri Lanka.

     In his article, Gihan writes “Airline pilots and doctors work in real time unlike lawyers who can take out their diaries and postpone a case for another day.”

     Increasingly, some of the systems designed to reduce errors in the airline industry are being adopted by the medical industry, especially in the operating rooms.  (Operating Room Management-ORM). A pre-op briefing where the surgeon introduces himself and the rest of the team to each other, and outlines the plan for surgery is becoming more commonplace, just as in a pre-flight briefing of an airline crew. Also, just like on the flight deck, even the most junior member on the team is encouraged to voice concern if something seems amiss,even at the risk of embarrassment, unlike in the old days.

     Apparently, a few years after this article appeared in The Island, Gihan was contacted by a private hospital in Colombo.  He writes “They acknowledeged the fact that aviation is at the cutting edge of ‘error management,’ at a time when the Far Eastern ailine I was employed by was a leader in Crew Resource Management (CRM). The hospital wanted to know if I would speak to their surgeons on the risk-alleviation methods used in aviation.  As a CRM facilitator, I requested in turn that, as a starting point for our discussion, the surgeons describe to me a real-life scenario wherein an operation was ‘botched.’ After a lapse of many weeks I was told that “surgeons don’t make mistakes”.  

    The profits from the sale of the book will be used to establish a scholarship fund for aspiring airline pilots in Sri Lanka, because the cost of training has risen steeply

  At the moment, the book can be downloaded on the Kindle App from Amazon.  Those who subscribe to Kindle Unlimited will be able to read it without additional cost.  Hard copies are available for sale in Colombo at Sarasavi Bookstores, Expographic Books and Barefoot.  In the near future it may be possible to purchase them on Amazon as well.

Note added on 15 Feb 2026. Srianee's brother Gihan featured in a post by Lucky about 5 years ago.

"Srianee (Bunter) Fernando Dias' youngest brother Gihan, is a retired Singapore Airlines and Sri Lankan Airlines Captain. This article was published in the ‘Island' newspaper about 5 years ago, but since aviation issues are currently dominating the news, a re-read would be interesting. Gihan frequently writes to the ‘Island’ about aviation issues.
Here is the link: https://colombomedgrads1962.blogspot.com/2019/03/airline-pilots-doctors-and-lawyers-with.html#comment-form

 

Daydreams on a winter’s day. - Dr Nihal D Amerasekera

Daydreams on a winter’s day

By Dr Nihal D Amerasekera

"Carpe diem, memor praeteritorum" 

"Seize the day, but remember the past".  -  The Roman poet Horace

At this time of my life, nothing inspires me more than the calmness of classical music. Winter Daydreams is an atmospheric piece of music composed by the Russian composer Tchaikovsky. In his music he paints brilliantly his mind at the time with storms, meditation and ceremonial splendour.  There is classical music for every mood and occasion. I have always been mesmerised by the crimson glow of the sunsets that I have witnessed around the world. The combination of the sun, the clouds and their reflection on the water gives the sunset such a magical status. The dreamy and melancholic music composed by Massenet in Meditation from Thaïs and Chopin’s enchanting nocturnes transport me to those pristine sunsets I’ve seen. They do bring peace to my soul.

When my professional tenure ended I moved away from a leafy suburb in Hertfordshire to an apartment in the heart of the big city. I was born with the tropical sun on my face and the rhythms of the seasons remain alien to me.  As the wild winter storms tighten its grip and the snow covers the landscape, I settle readily into the comfort of chintz cushions and the gracious curve of my rocking chair. With each gentle, deliberate sway, I feel an irresistible pull toward the dim and distant past and the happy and uncomplicated present. There is a quiet warmth in leafing through the archives of my mind, a soothing pleasure in memories gently stirred.

When I snuggle up, thoughts and memories of the past, the present and the future seem to swirl in my head. Those childhood memories and the time spent with my parents take pride of place. It has created an Aladdin's cave of wondrous memories.  We spend our formative and impressionable years at school. Those memories of friends, fun and laughter are stored and archived to last a lifetime.

Connecting to the present moment helps me create a little space in my mind to deal with its concerns and controversies. People have long dreamt of an egalitarian society. Despite human existence for thousands of years, all the religions and philosophies of this world have failed to inspire and encourage us to live in peace and share our wealth. There is a high level of economic inequality in the world which is shocking and obscene, and it is getting worse.

Politics is the bane of society, but we need politicians. The origins of the art and science of governance is not clear. But sleaze, corruption and criminality in politics is old as the hills.  Extreme power and control over people corrupt and destroy societies and lives. But we never seem to learn from history. As I look around there is not a single country in the world where politics is clean as intended. In the West, there is unacceptable political corruption, but it lies below the surface and far less conspicuous. In some countries bribery, deceit and deception are accepted as the norm. This causes tremendous hardship to the people.

We humans have caused global warming. Glaciers are melting, sea levels are rising, forests and wildlife are dying. There is a sense of foreboding of an impending apocalypse. Humanity is undergoing an existential crisis. As we defer, delay and prevaricate, time is running out. The tropical cyclone Ditwah made landfall on Sri Lanka leaving a major humanitarian crisis in its wake. This is blamed on global warming. I do wish more is done to prevent further catastrophes.

The past never truly goes away. Still, my yesterday’s walk with me. My life changed forever as I entered the faculty of medicine in 1962. Much of it remains a haze but there are a few memories that still live on. It’s been said before; ours was the golden age of medical education in Sri Lanka. I feel greatly privileged to have been taught by some remarkable teachers. I still consider our professors, lecturers and clinical tutors as some of the best in the world. I marvel at their clinical skills and recoil at their egotistical arrogance. We soon learnt to survive in that air of toxicity. We tread cautiously and endured the arrogance and conceit in silence in the hope of better times. Surprisingly, I don’t feel resentful. The tough life gave us self-reliance, confidence, grit and determination. I am told; the atmosphere and attitudes have evolved significantly to reflect changes in society. I remember our teachers with much affection and gratitude and thank them for their commitment to teaching.

From the comfort of my rocking chair, I often find myself returning to the General Hospital, Colombo, of the 1960s—where I learned my craft. Despite the inevitable progress and regress, I see it as it was all so long ago. Without that burning ambition and the relentless chase for knowledge, the journey back is poignant and nostalgic.  It gives me such joy to walk those long corridors again.  I see the wards as they were and remember my teachers and friends with much affection, many of whom are now with us no more.

My professional journey began with an internship in Kurunegala. This was followed by seven years in the Health Service. It was, in many ways, a rewarding period. But professionally, I was simply adrift with the wind. What I remember mostly of those years is of the simple rural folk of the Wanni, who were my patients. They were so very grateful for the little I could do to help them.

Many of my professional colleagues were encouraged by the famous phrase popularised by the American journalist Horace Greeley,  “Go West young man”. They dispersed far and wide in search of work and opportunity. After much thought and soul searching, I followed the herd and left the country. From then on, there was the Darwinian struggle of survival of the fittest.  Amidst the fierce competition for the plum jobs, there were the many unwanted prejudices to contend with. Despite all that, life was more stable and predictable. There was a new energy and a joyous appreciation of the status quo. Finally, I found that all-important professional pride and satisfaction. With secure employment came marriage and a family. Then caring for my family took precedence. I embraced and adored everything parenthood had to offer. Time passed on swiftly and relentlessly. 

The sands of time have moved on.  I have progressed from youth to middle age and way beyond. Retirement has given me time to think about life, its highs, lows, and its vagaries. The idealism of my early years is now long gone.  The emotional climate has grown calmer. Spending a lifetime in medicine has the drawback of allowing hypochondriacal tendencies to surface.  I need some lotions and portions to tidy up my health.  We all have learnt to deal with these issues effectively. Now is the time to celebrate our achievements and be happy with what we have.

Cricket has cemented my love affair with London. The game has been my passion all my life. Watching cricket at Lords brings me such great joy. While seated in the ‘Home of Cricket’ there are times when my mind wanders across the vast swathes of land and oceans to where I spent my childhood. The enchantment of those cricket matches of my youth still haunts me. The fizz and excitement of school cricket was infectious. Singing and chanting, I have watched the games under the majestic “Mara” trees at Campbell Park.

Leaving the country of my birth has left me with many scars and regrets. Losing much of the rich Sri Lankan culture, music and language is often hard to bear. I am now a stranger to the new generation that has grown up in my absence. So much has happened to our lives since I left Sri Lanka. It is now impossible to match the closeness I once enjoyed with my family and friends back home. Above all not being with my parents at their hour of need still brings me great sadness that is hard to console. I have paid a heavy price for my professional ambitions and achievements.

It was the Roman poet Virgil who wrote, “Tempus fugit” — time flies. Indeed, it does. Despite life’s fleeting tumults, none of us is here forever; our time will come. Now I find myself in the grip of events, many beyond my control. As an octogenarian, my mind is calmer. There is no longer a burning ambition, no desire to chase money or position. I have fulfilled my duty to care for my progeny.

Worry never helps; it only destroys and pulls the mind into darkness. I seek the serenity to accept what I cannot change, the courage to change what I must, and the wisdom to know the difference—so I may remain calm and be at peace.

I look to the future because that's where I'm going to spend the rest of my life. Once I have made the necessary choices for my parting, it is important that I return to my regular routine. There is no purpose in dwelling on death and dying; I will deal with it when it comes. It is true — I will not pass this way again. And so, I must savour the beauty of nature, the birds and the bees, and the company of family and friends. Only then can I truly sing that familiar refrain, “Que sera, sera” — whatever will be, will be.

The Benefits of drawing and painting as a hobby

Paintings by Nihal, Srianee, Chirasri, Rohini A and Speedy

Friends, Doctors and Countrymen!

I am posting these wonderful paintings by colleagues just to demonstrate that, although we trained as doctors, we can still master new skills that are of great benefit, especially as we get older and the exit doors seem more real than just an imaginary remote construct.

They are shown solely for the purpose of energising you to try a new skill, or rouse it if it is dormant, and not as a boast. There are many useful ways to preserve our sanity, vanity, and humanity, but I urge you to consider taking up drawing and painting if you haven’t done so already. 

YOU..., Me?..yes... YOU!... CAN.. DO..IT!!

The following AI response on the benefits of Painting is hard to beat

Painting as a pastime offers a wide range of mental, physical, and social benefits, making it a highly therapeutic and enriching hobby for individuals of all ages.

Mental and Emotional Health

Stress and Anxiety Reduction: Painting lowers cortisol levels—the body’s primary stress hormone—promoting relaxation and helping to quiet an overactive mind.

Achieving a "Flow State": Immersing yourself in a creative task can lead to a meditative "flow state," where time seems to slow down, and daily worries fade away.

Emotional Expression and Catharsis: For many, art provides a nonverbal outlet for processing complex emotions or past traumas that are difficult to put into words.

Boosted Self-Esteem: Finishing a project, regardless of skill level, releases dopamine and provides a tangible sense of pride and accomplishment.

Cognitive and Physical Benefits

Brain Health and Memory: Engaging in artistic activities has been linked to a 73% lower risk of developing mild cognitive impairment and dementia in older age.

Improved Fine Motor Skills: Handling brushes and mixing paints strengthens the small muscles in the hands and wrists, improving dexterity and hand-eye coordination.

Problem-Solving Skills: Adapting to unexpected outcomes on the canvas, such as colour mixing or fixing mistakes, helps build critical-thinking and innovation skills that translate to everyday life.

Enhanced Observation: Painting trains you to look at the world with a "child's eye," noticing details in light, texture, and colour that are often overlooked.

Social and Practical Advantages

Community Building: Joining art classes or workshops offers opportunities to connect with like-minded individuals and reduces feelings of isolation.

Digital Detox: Painting is a tactile, analogue experience that provides a necessary break from screens and digital intrusions.

Flexibility: It is an accessible hobby that can be as budget-friendly or as involved as you choose, fitting easily into various schedules and skill levels.

These are the paintings sent to me by Chira, Nihal, Srianee and Rohini A. (I have added mine). Two paintings/drawings each.

Please click on the painting for an enlarged and clear view.

Nithya Jayawickrema honoured

Nithya Jayawickrema honoured

The Honour bestowed on him was the Legend Award jointly presented by the Colonel Henry Olcott Sports Foundation and the Ananda College Old Boys' Association, at the "Olcott Cricket Tournament Old Boys Banquet", hosted by the Ananda College Old Boys' Association (ACOBA). This annual event, held on the 24th of January in 2026, honours Colonel Henry Steel Olcott, the founder of Ananda College and other prominent Buddhist schools in Sri Lanka.

Nithya was educated at Mahinda College, Galle, from kindergarten (1946) to medical college entry. He had represented the Mahinda College 1st eleven cricket team from 1956 to 1961. In 1956, under the famous D.H. De Silva, and in the following 3 years, 1957, 58 & 59, under the two well-known Amendra brothers, Sisira & Stanley. In his last year, 1960, in the annual big match “Lovers Quarrel”, he scored 77 & 32 runs as the vice captain of the Mahinda College cricket team. He was a stylish left-handed batter and a very good slip fielder.

Apart from cricket, he had represented his Alma Mater in many extracurricular activities, such as soccer and athletics, and was a member of the senior cadet platoon.

He was a brilliant student with a wide range of extracurricular activities. He was also Head Prefect. He entered the Peradeniya Medical Faculty in 1962 and later transferred to Colombo in 1963, as so many others did, to enrich our Batch.  He was a member of the Colombo University Cricket Team.  

Nithya Jayawickrama specialised in Obstetrics and Gynaecology. He decided to return home after specialisation and a long stint abroad. 

He practised at Apollo Hospital, where he headed its Fertility Centre.

He has served as a Doctor for over 50 years. He is well recognised as a humble and caring doctor.

This is the plaque he was awarded, the Legend Award jointly presented by the Colonel Henry Olcott Sports Foundation and the Ananda College Old Boys' Association. 

Our sincere congratulations to Nithya for this coveted award.